Pressure
by the.goal.is.greatness
Summary: It can turn a lump of coal into a diamond or an average person into a complete basket case. [Ron x Luna] [8th Year]


**Title:** Pressure (or "How Luna Unintentionally Made Ronald Weasley Fall in Love with Her in Ten Meetings")  
**Genre:** Romance / Humor  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** Ron x Luna  
**Spoilers:** N/A  
**Summary:** It can turn a lump of coal into a perfect diamond, or an average person into a complete basket case.  
**Word Count:** 8,075  
**Warnings:** Literally no mention of anything canon at all – AU 6th year fic

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Summary is from somewhere but I can't seem to find it anymore. It was a website that made weird motivational posters.

**A/N:** While not a Ron fangirl per say, I am a Luna fangirl and I'll pair her with anyone and love it.

* * *

1.

The library was almost silent. Oh yes, there was page turning and scratching quills and shuffling parchment, but there was no restless fidgeting, no chair scraping, no semi-muffled whispered conversations.

Ron was fairly certain this had to do with the fact that the library was mostly filled with Ravenclaws.

Why, exactly, he himself was here, ensconced in the bowels of boredom was because his two traitorous best friends were in Potions, leaving him all by his lonesome. He had thought to go down to the pitch, but it was raining and he wasn't entirely sure he could perform a water-repelling charm on his eyes without horrifically maiming and/or blinding himself. He tried the Common Room, but McGonagall was in there dealing with some sort of First Year related crisis that involved flobberworms, teacups, and something catching on fire, so that was a no. the Great Hall was next up, but there was _literally_ no one there at this time of day.

The library was his last resort.

He was beginning to think being solo in the Great Hall was preferable.

Time was crawling by slower than a History of Magic class and it was beginning to grate on him. "Ugh, hurry up," he mumbled, staring vaguely at the stack of books someone had left on the table, "I might actually study if I'm left alone for much longer." And he really didn't want to do that. All those words made him go cross-eyed.

"Oh, rot!"

Ron jumped like a rabbit at the violent exclamation (it was followed by several dozen "Ssshhh"-ing Ravenclaws) and pivoted in his chair until he could see the table behind him.

There sat Loony Luna Lovegood, looking as sweet and bland as the vanilla pudding Ron had eaten last night for dessert, surrounded by towering piles of academia, notes in front of her, a smear of ink across her cheek. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she frowned at something she was reading, before she huffed indignantly and piled the book onto the teetering pile to her left. Bored out of his wits, he glanced at the titles.

_The Mathematics of Underwater Equations. Sponges and Their Mysteries. Atlantis: Fact or Fiction? Mermish for Beginners. The Nile: What You Don't Know._

The collection was eclectic and the books all grouped together didn't make any sense to Ron whatsoever (besides the water). It must take quite an intellect to be able to understand so many different things at once. Only ridiculously smart people like Hermoine or Dumbledore. Or Luna, apparently. Maybe that was just a Ravenclaw thing.

"Oh, hello, Ron."

Tearing his eyes away from the hodgepodge collection of reading material the girl had accumulated, he glanced up to find Luna staring at him. "Hey, Luna."

"It is unusual to find you in the library, Ron. Are you studying for something?"

He shrugged, shifted until he was facing her a little more. "Nah, just killing time until Harry and Hermoine get out of class."

"That is understandable; you three are very close friends."

He made a noncommittal sound.

Her fingers were tapping out a pattern on the cover of one of her books and she continued to stare at him. "I am looking for information."

"Um, yeah, well, then the library's a good place to be, isn't it?"

"Would you be interested in hearing what I am studying?"

Another unsure glance towards her stacks of literature. "I'm listening… hesitantly."

"I wish to know how much larger the ocean would be if there weren't any sponges in it."

Ron blinked. Glanced from Luna to her books and back. Blinked again. Then slowly, very slowly, as if the quiet girl across from him would suddenly lunge for his throat like a rabid kitten, started to stand up. "Right. Well… good luck… with that."

"I've made you uncomfortable."

He paused, thought about it, didn't dispute it."

"You shouldn't listen to everything I say," she said. "I never do."

Ron arched a brow at her. "Right. See ya around, Luna."

* * *

2.

There was nothing like a good Quidditch workout to put you in a good mood. Hogwarts was great and all, but Ron could definitely do without the vast amounts of homework the teachers liked to pass out to students like it was going out of style. And though he didn't have to deal with the tediousness of potion-brewing or the dismal dungeons any longer, he still had to deal with that hooked-nosed, over-bearing, greasy git Snape. Whoop-dee-freakin-do.

Sweaty and muscles aching pleasantly, he made his way to one of the empty locker rooms, pushing back the hair matted to his forehead.

The October air was crisp, with the faintest hint of winter tinting the breeze, and the warm shower felt bloody amazing. With Hermoine in (where else) the library and Harry Merlin knew where, Ron definitely needed something to take his mind off how utterly boring it was without his two best friends. Maybe he could convince Ginny to practice with him next time. It was always better with more than one person, anyway, helped him keep from getting any worse.

A soft click had him freezing in place, hands wrist-deep in his soapy hair. That sounded an awful lot like the door…

"Oh. This isn't where I parked my broom."

Giving an undignified scream that he would vehemently deny if ever asked, Ron jumped, slipping on the slick tiles, with his arms wind-milling to keep him steady. Grabbing a handful of shower curtain, he was horrified to notice that gravity was pulling both him and said curtain into a crumbled heap on the floor.

Blinking through the harsh sting of suds dripping into his eyes, clutching the shower curtain to his chest, he peered up at the person standing in the doorway. "L-Luna?!"

She blinked at him. "Hello, Ron." A pause. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"You scared the hell out of me! How did you even get in here?!"

"I came in through the door," she answered calmly, stepping further into the room.

"Get out!" He was scrambling ungracefully backwards across the slick floor, water still streaming from the shower and flooding across the tiles.

She stopped. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm _naked_!" He yelled, voice cracking.

"Yes, I had noticed. But I also need to use the facilities. I did not think it would cause you alarm since there are curtains in the stalls." She was silent for a second. "Was I mistaken?"

"_Yes_!" He glared up at her, one eye closed against the sting of shampoo. "What are you even _doing_ here?"

"Practicing Quidditch," she announced proudly.

He noticed for the first time that her long blonde hair was pulled up into a long mussed ponytail, and her magnolia pale skin was flushed with the faintest tinge of pink. As if she'd been flying around in the cold for a time.

"I wish to have something to speak to my friends about. You and Harry both enjoy Quidditch, and I thought to give it a try." She smiled at him brightly, eyes shining like blue marbles against her pale pallor. "But when I started practicing with the Bludgers I accidentally hexed my broom and now it's gone off somewhere." She shrugged. "I had hoped it would find its way to the storage shed or the locker rooms, but I suppose it will be found eventually." She was still smiling. "In any case, I found that I quite enjoy flying. It feels like I'm a cloud."

"Splendid," Ron said, in a tone of voice meant to convey exactly how splendid he thought it was. Which was: not at all. "Well, why don't you go chase a snitch and leave me alone?"

She blinked. "Do you think I'd by any good? Our team has no alternate, I could try out. It is my Seventh Year, after all."

Ron gaped at her. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought about it.

Luna was book smart, but he didn't think she was exceedingly _smart_ smart. But… she'd probably do alright at anything she did. She'd never be a brilliant Quidditch player like Harry or Charlie or even that twit Malfoy, but, armed with only the weapon of confusion, she'd probably do alright.

"You know what? Go ahead and try out, you'd probably do alright."

She beamed at him. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?... Um… can you get out now?"

* * *

3.

It was getting pretty chilly out; the days preceding Halloween more often than not cool enough to mist breath in the morning air and every day snow seemed a little more imminent. So it was with real irritation that the Gryffindor boys woke up at an entirely ungodly hour one Saturday to the sound of shouting female voices echoing through the windows. Though Dean, Neville, and Seamus all shoved their heads under their pillows and continued snoring, Harry and Ron both rolled out of bed. Harry collapsed onto one of the couches in the Common Room, but Ron, after pulling a robe on over his pajamas, staggered out into the hall, intent on finding the source of the noise and murdering it.

Almost an hour later, he was beginning to think the gaggle of girls were ghosts, because, even though he'd started his search under the Gryffindor tower, he had yet to locate them.

"Merlin's beard," he muttered, pulling his robe around him tighter. It was way colder outside in the morning, and he was barefoot and in his nightclothes still. He glanced back at the castle and thought about food. "If I don't find them in the next five minutes – " He stopped abruptly as he walked around another corner, trying to process what he was seeing.

He saw his sister and the Patil twins, Hannah Abbott, there were a few other Gryffindor girls in the back whose names he couldn't recall, and several from other Houses who he didn't know at all.

All of them were wearing their school skirts rolled up to mid-thigh, with their socks pulled up to their knees. Most of them had their hair in pigtails, and a fair number of them were holding big, poofy, round pillows.

"Ginny… I don't think this is a good idea…"

"Nonsense, Padma, this is a fantastic idea!" His sister was standing on a big box, wand pointed to her throat and obviously using Sonorus on her voice, if the decibel was anything to go by. "Our teams need cheering from cute girls in cute clothes and since I clearly can't cheer because I'm playing, it instead falls on my shoulders to turn you into what Hermoine tells me are called _cheerleaders_." She grinned at them brightly. "It's a brilliant idea."

"If you say so," she said, sounding unsure.

"I do. Now! Let's do the House cheer! Lavender, Luna, Pavarti, front and center!"

Pavarti heaved an annoyed sigh, Susan looked longingly towards the castle, and Luna hesitantly tugged at the hem of her skirt.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Ron cast an appraising eye on the trio. Susan was tall and gangly, but the other two sure did clean up nice. Pavarti's pigtails made her look bouncy and cute, and Ron suddenly felt a pang as he realized Padma would look the same and he regretted he was such a killjoy at the Yule Ball years ago. Had he really been such an idiot that he ignored those long, tanned limbs, and darkly shining eyes? Luna, too, looked different out her standard uniform; her legs lithe and pale (probably freezing). And her rich golden tresses were disheveled, looking like rumpled velvet. The three of them looked nervous, but Luna was at least smiling shyly.

"Ready?" His sister was shouting. "Okay!"

"Give me an H…" Susan said, almost whispering.

"Can't hear you," Ginny said warningly.

"Give me an R." Slightly louder coming from Luna, who waved her fluffy little pillows once.

"Still too quiet…"

"Give me a G!" Now Pavarti was yelling.

"Give me a break," Ron muttered.

His sister's head snapped over in his direction. "Ron!" Her eyes lit up with malicious glee and Ron had one second to take a step backwards before his sister was in front of him, dragging him forward towards the pack of females in short skirts and pigtails.

"We're starting a cheerleading squad!" She announced, thankfully having removed the spell on her voice.

"A what?"

"A cheerleading squad." Ron turned away from his sister to Luna, who was flushed with cold and standing next to Ginny. "According to Hermoine, they're groups of girls who do choreographed, motivational routines at Muggle sporting events to cheer their team on. Ginny thinks each House should organize one for Quidditch games." She glanced at the group of girls. "The Slytherin girls didn't come, I wonder why."

"Probably because they're busy plotting their evil plans."

"So, big brother, what do you think? Good idea right?"

"I – "

"Hey, Luna!" Pavarti shouted, waving the blonde over to them.

"Well, I better go, it was nice to see you again, Ron," she said, skipping away.

"Hm." Ron watched her go, watched her join the group of girls. She laughed at something one of the girls said and responded with something that made everyone look at her strangely, before laughing along with her. Her smile was kind of perpetual, and even if he thought about it, he couldn't really remember seeing her without it. It was like his freckles or Hermoine's bushy hair or Harry's scar. She might be a strange little bird, but, seeing her twirling around and waving those pillow things in the air, there was also a very timid charisma about her.

"Course," Ginny continued, glancing at Ron from the corner of her eye, "it might prove to be too distracting to the players."

Ron looked over at her, frowned at the sly little smile on her face, and glared when he watched her eyes slid pointedly over to Luna, who was now gesturing broadly as she told some story to a young Hufflepuff girl. "Ginny, because you are my sister, I'm going to tell you this nicely: Leave. Me. Alone."

* * *

4.

It was at a completely horrid hour of the morning and the only reason Ron ever dragged himself out of bed at such a time on the weekend was because of the vast cache of food that was waiting to be consumed in the Great Hall. It was never too early to eat. But there were just some people that couldn't be dealt with until after lunch.

"Good morning, star shine. The Earth says hello!"

"Oh, sweet mother of Merlin…" Ron groaned into his eggs, as Luna flounced over to their table and situated herself in between Harry and Ginny, directly across from him.

"Hello, Luna," his sister greeted the blonde warmly. "Decide to sit with us today?"

She nodded. "The Ravenclaw dorms have been infested with Wrackspurts and none of the girls are in very good moods because of it."

"Oh, well, I hope that's taken care of soon."

Ron snorted into his food, staring resolutely at his plate and not at the blonde girl reaching for tea and bagels. Nine A.M. and already that girl wasn't right.

"Yes, there are several important tests coming up and I would hate for the girls to be so muddle-headed during them." She paused and glanced around at the Gryffindors surrounding her. "It seems like the infestation might have spread to this House as well."

When the silence grew long enough that it became uncomfortable, Ron looked up from the methodical eating of his breakfast to find everyone staring at him. Luna's own hazy blue eyes were fastened on his with discerning interest. "What?"

"You are positively surrounded by Wrackspurts, Ron. It is a wonder you are clear-headed enough to ingest your food. I can help, if you like?" She asked, pouring cream into her teacup and stirring it thoughtfully.

"No."

"But, Ron – "

"No!"

"If you would just let me – "

"Would you please just shut your pie hole?!"

"The only thing that shuts my pie hole is pie," she answered calmly, sipping from her glass of tea with a true lady's daintiness. "Your energy is all green and spiky. It does not look healthy at all."

"I don't care."

"It will only get worse if you ignore it. Oh look! It's gone all greenish-yellow!"

"Would you stop the live coverage of my aura?!

She shrugged elegantly. "I simply thought you would be interested in the icky color of your energy fields."

"Well, I'm not," he snapped, frowning drowsily at her. He glanced down at the table, whipped out his wand, and attempted to summon the jug of pumpkin juice that was halfway down the table, but wound up exploding it all over Seamus and Dean. As the pair yelled indignantly, Ron glared at all the people staring at him like he had gone off his rocker. "What?!" Stupid kids. Trying to act like they'd never seen anyone explode a jug of pumpkin juice before.

"… You are a strange person."

Ron glanced back at Luna, who was regarding him calmly over the rim of her teacup, eyes thoughtful and intent. "Is that so?"

She nodded. "True as toast."

And with a groan, he let his head slam onto the table.

* * *

5.

Hagrid was huffing and puffing his way into the Great Hall with Christmas tree after Christmas tree, as a group of Gryffindors lounged on the staircase near the entranceway. The doors were swung wide, letting in the cold and random flurries of snow. First Years were out and about, gallivanting in the stuff like snow bunnies. They were nauseating.

"They should be studying," Hermoine said, glancing up briefly from the book in her lap. She turned to stare at the rest of them. "_You_ should be studying."

"Later, Hermoine, geez. At least we're not out playing in the snow like a bunch of five-year-olds. At least give us some credit for that."

"There's nothing wrong with playing in the snow."

"Hey, Luna," Neville greeted, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that her winter clothes were in garishly clashing colors of green and purple or that her earrings were Christmas tree orbs or that her necklace was made of garland. "What are you doing out here?"

"Playing in the snow."

"Little old for that, aren't you?"

She shrugged, eyes sparkling iridescently against the backdrop of white, white snow visible through the doors. "I don't think people ever outgrow having fun. They just outgrow the idea that they're allowed to do it."

"Is that so?"

She nodded eagerly as Harry arched an interested brow in her direction. "Absolutely. People forget that they're allowed to behave like children. Actually," she placed a thoughtful finger against her lips. "I think we've earned the right to behave a little foolishly after everything we go through as adults."

"That's… I've never thought about it that way."

Ron frowned at his best friend as he grinned at the girl in front of them. He wasn't actually buying this stuff, was he? And where did he get off encouraging her crazy theories anyway?

"Yes. People spend so much time working and studying that they don't remember to enjoy life. Do you know," she asked him eagerly, leaning forward, "why snow is white?" He shook his head. "Because it has forgotten what color it's supposed to be."

Harry stared at her blankly for a moment, before throwing back his head and laughing. Luna gave a delighted giggle at the sight, clapping her hands together in glee. Ron stared at her as she laughed at whatever the hell it was she was finding so amusing. Must be nice to be _that_ carefree all the time. He started as she turned to him abruptly. "You boys might want to watch out, by the way," she said, tilting her head upwards.

When they looked up, all the boys but Harry scrambled out of the way and even though Ron tugged on his arm he didn't budge.

"Any Nargles in this one, Luna?"

Ron stopped tugging, blinked once, looked from Harry to Luna and back again, then took a step backwards, away from the something-or-other infested holiday plant.

Luna was nodding. "Lots of the mistletoe in the castle has them. I think they like the holiday spirits. That's why they're found in mistletoe so often."

"Fantastic, something to dislike about Christmas. It'll never be the same again," Ron muttered, pouting childishly up at the (to him) innocent looking greenery.

"Yes, but at least there's snow."

"Hm."

"I mean, if there was no snow, where would all the penguins dance?"

For a moment, it seemed like Ron hadn't even heard it, but he turned slowly, giving her a look that spoke volumes of how completely confused he was. "Come again?"

She laughed, before reaching out a hand and poking him on the nose, then spun around and skipped off through the Great Hall doors and into the snow. She didn't seem to care that the snow was probably seeping into her boots, into her clothes, or that her nose was probably going to freeze off any second now. No, she just pranced merrily along, reaching down to toss it in the air over her head, laughing the entire time, sun catching off blonde hair and making it glow, making her eyes shine.

Ron stared after her for a moment, upper lip curled back in confusion, before he shook his head, smiled to himself, and took one more step away from that stupid mistletoe.

* * *

6.

History of Magic was the most boring method of torture that adults had ever invented. Ron was fairly positive the only person learning anything was Hermoine, and even that was a loose term since Ron _was also_ fairly sure that she'd had the textbook memorized the summer before their First Year, so it wasn't like she really needed to be here anyway.

Binns was droning on and on and on about Gertrude the Gullible, a witch from the 1800s who had managed to 'accidentally' reveal herself to Muggles over two dozen times or something or other. Gullible, they should have called her stupid. Okay, so maybe he'd flown a Ford Angela over London and _maybe_ a _few_ people had seen. But he wasn't a complete idiot. It's not like he'd do that twenty more times.

He sighed, twirling his quill into another swirling pattern across his parchment. His note taken has started out so promising. He'd managed the date today. A vast improvement over the last few years, if he did say so himself.

A swirl of hair plopped down abruptly across his drawing, if one could call it that, and he glanced up in irritation. An extra reason to hate History of Magic today was that there had been such a severe explosion of Skelo-Go in the Potions lab today that the Ravenclaw class had been reorganized and thrown into the Gryffindor's History of Magic class. And proof that Binns was the world's most boring professor was that even the Ravenclaws were glassy eyed and delirious, though they did a better job at hiding it than the Gryffindors. Plus, they also probably knew everything anyway, too.

It was amusing, but it still meant that Luna had parked her blond behind directly in front of him and every time she _moved_ that mass sprawled across his desk in a heap of sunshine tresses. He frowned at the mess, watching the strands sift across his paper.

He opened his mouth to hiss a warning to her to move her hair, but managed to inhale a full breath of her hair – coconut and ink and citrus – and he paused, letting his head sink back against the desk, breathing softly to keep the smell in his nose.

Eyes drowsy and half asleep, he never noticed when he put down his quill and instead began to idly play with Luna's hair, silken strands sliding through his fingers like water.

* * *

7.

In retrospect, sneaking out of the Gryffindor Common Room at well past midnight without the benefit of Harry's cloak or map (which Ron was sure Harry would have given him with little to no explanation needed) was not as brilliant an idea as it had seemed at first go. Granted, he had actually thought about it a surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly) small amount, just rolled out of bed, glared sleepily ay Neville who kept snoring like a gutted hippogriff, and padded out of the dorm. So, minus one Invisibility Cloak, with the Marauder's Map (and sans footwear), he stumbled out into the dark and quiet of the castle.

With no destination in mind, he wandered aimlessly, creeping like one of the castle's ghosts through the (eerily) empty halls.

"Where the hell are all the teachers?" he said, stopping abruptly. The suit of armor next to him shrugged, then went back to holding its battleax.

"They're near the Ravenclaw dorms."

Ron made a startled noise, like a mouse being stepped on, and leapt a foot in the air. "L – Luna?!"

She slanted a look at him, peeling her eyes away from the painting she had had her nose about a half-an-inch from. "Yes?"

"What are you _doing_ here?"

She stared at him silently for a long moment, giving Ron the irritating impression that every emotion that crossed his face, every thought in his head, was being analyzed and catalogued away for future use. "I think a better question would be: why are _you_ here?"

"W-what?" he stuttered, momentarily stunned by how intense her eyes shone in the dark, like blue lamps in the dim hallway.

"Why are you," she repeated, stepping closer, hands clasped loosely behind her back, "here," another step," at this time of night," two more steps, "with me?"

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm not here with you! You're here with me!"

She shrugged. "I was here first. So, it seems to reason that you wandered off from your Common Room, at night, and found me here." She took another step and suddenly she was _right there_. "Why is that?"

Ron jerked back, wondering if she had any idea what personal space was, and tried to make his mouth and his brain agree on what exactly it was he wanted to say. "That's not what happened! Well, actually, I guess it kind of what happened, but not that way! I mean, not for that reason… well, you didn't give a reason, so, I guess that is the way it happened, but not for any reason and I – "

He quieted suddenly, his words trailing off like disappearing smoke. Luna was smiling at him. Not in that vague, disaffected way she gave off sometimes or that half-intelligent, half-mad air she had all the time. Just a slight upward tilt at the edge of her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners as they softened at him.

"You are a very amusing person, Ron," she said eventually.

"I – "

"Mreow?"

Ron jerked backwards at the sound, and the two off them turned to see Mrs. Norris sitting halfway down the hall, staring at the pair of them, golden eyes gleaming like twin torches in the darkness. She stared at them unblinkingly for several long moments, before standing, swishing her tail once, twice, and walking away.

"We should get out of here," Ron said, eyes still fixed to the vanishing feline. She had the distinct appearance of a cat that was about to report to her boss.

"I suppose," Luna said airily.

"Guess I'll see you to-"

"Over here, you stupid beast? Geez, I can't believe I'm taking orders from a flea-bitten cat."

Ron gave an involuntary lurch at Malfoy's sudden voice, leaping forward and pushing Luna into a shadowy alcove, instinctively trying to not get either one of them in trouble.

_Damn, Harry,_ Ron thought, as Luna's big blue eyes stared up at him in interest, his arms on either side of her head. _ Damn his hero complex rubbing off on me. Oh, don't think about rubbing. Think about Filch! And detention. With Snape. And – _

"I admire that you are trying to shield me from Malfoy, but I'm fairly certain he'll find me anyway."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, force of habit," Ron said sheepishly, but did nothing to move away. His eyes were drawn down to her lips, parted and inviting, and he noticed that she wasn't scared or nervous here in his arms, just intrigued, waiting patiently to see what he would do. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so, Ron," she said, head titled sideways, "but isn't Lucius Malfoy already married?"

"What? Why would I –" His words were cut off suddenly when Luna leaned up, pressing her lips to his.

For a moment, he was too shocked to do more than stand there, and really, they must have looked ridiculous, both of them stock-still, only touching where their lips met. Then Ron decided to just take it and run with it.

Her lips were soft and she smelled really good, Ron determined, leaning down further, pressing their lips together harder.

"Where – Ow! Hey, you stupid cat! Come back here, you mangy vermin!"

Ron pulled away from Luna at Malfoy's shout. He steadfastly didn't look at her as he listened to that Slytherin twit thunder off after Filch's cat, shouting spells.

"Ron?"

"Hm?" He glanced over, remembered the position he was in, and took several hurried steps backwards. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to – Well, I did, but I don't want you to be mad at me. You were just there and so close and – Not that it's your fault or anything!" He blathered on, arms waving in front of him.

She laid a soft hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-tirade, smiling at him a gain. He smiled back hesitantly. "We should both be getting back," she said, stepping away from the dark niche. "Next time someone comes by we might not be so lucky."

"Um, yeah. Um… are we… okay?"

"Of course!" She grinned at him broadly. As she turned to walk away, Ron took one step towards her, unsure why, and she paused. "You should probably head back to the Gryffindor Tower and not follow me this way. I get lost sometimes. And locked into rooms." And then she walked off, whistling _I'll Put a Spell on You_.

Ron watched her go, wondering how much trouble he'd get into if he got caught in the Prefects bathroom at this time of night. Though he'd figured it'd almost be worth it. With any luck, he'd fall asleep in the tub and _drown_.

* * *

8.

"How about this one," Dean said, leaning forward from where he sat several seats down from Ron and Harry. "How do you make a blonde laugh on Friday?" He paused, staring at one expectant face to another. "You tell her a joke on Wednesday!"

There were chuckles all around, though Hermoine huffed and shut her book with a sharp snap. "Now really, Dean," she said, leaning forward and staring at him. "That's sexist." She stared at the laughing boys around her. "How can you heathens laugh at something derogatory to both the female sex and blondes? There is no scientific proof that blondes are somehow less intelligent than people with any other hair color."

Ron elbowed Harry in the ribs and shared a look with him, both of them rolling their eyes at the girl across from them.

"Ron! Harry! You can't tell me you think jokes like this are funny!"

"Oh, calm down, Hermoine, it's all in harmless fun," Harry said consolingly to her, but he quieted when she glared at him harshly.

"Yeah, Hermoine, bugger off."

"Why you – "

"Hello, all!"

Ron lurched at the cheerful voice, elbow sliding over the edge of the table and bringing a plate half full of food with him. "L- Luna!" Harry gave him a strange, sideways look but remained silent, choosing instead to turn and greet their new lunch guest as she walked up behind him.

"Hey, Luna. What's up?"

"I thought I would sit with you guys today." If she was staring straight at Ron when she said it, no one commented on it.

Ron, meanwhile, was busily cleaning up the mess he had made of the table and his clothes, so didn't notice. "Hey, that's cool," he said finally, casting one last scourgify at his tie, then twisting in his seat to grin at her. She was still staring at him. He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "You can sit in between me and Harry. Right, Harry?"

Harry glanced between the two of them, shrugged, and slid over, arching a brow towards Ginny at her brother's strange behavior.

As Luna settled into her new spot, Rob rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants, killing time by taking a swing of pumpkin juice. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd accosted Luna in the halls after hours and she hadn't mentioned it since then. Ron was taking this to mean she was mad at him (no matter it was her that had kissed him first, girls were weird and confusing like that) or that she was trying to pretend it had never happened (since she'd done nothing by ignore him and go around vomiting sunshine since that night). And now, here she was, sitting next to him, the table so crammed with people at this hour that every time she shifted her long hair whispered against his arm or her leg pressed fleetingly against him.

_Oh, crap, maybe I should have asked her to sit next to the girls,_ he thought, glancing over at Hermoine and his sister way on the other side of the table. He didn't think he could get through the rest of the lunch period like this. Not with Luna sitting so close and looking so adorable. Her hair looked tousled, like she'd just rolled out of bed. And between her bright blue eyes, the huge silver earrings she was wearing, and the smear of ink across one cheek, she looked like the poster child for Ravenclaw.

"So what were you all laughing about over here?"

"O-oh! We were telling jokes! Wanna hear one?" And if he seemed overeager and leaned in towards her closer than was necessary, she didn't seem to mind. She probably didn't notice. She _was_ annoyingly oblivious about those things. When Luna nodded, Ron ignored Hermoine's huff and turned farther towards her. "Okay, I've got a good one then. A man was going from house to house in this guy Jeff's neighborhood, right? 'How many time a week do you sleep with your wife?' asked the man. So Jeff thinks about it and says, 'Three time.' The man writes it down and says, 'That's one more time a week than your neighbor.' And Jeff goes, 'That makes sense. Since she's my wife.'"

All the boys at the table burst into laughter, but Luna just blinked, head tilted to one side.

"It's a misunderstanding between them," Ron said, trying to explain the joke to her. "The man asking questions means Jeff's neighbor sleeps with his _own_ wife twice a week, but Jeff thinks he means _his_ wife."

"Oh!" Luna said, eyes lighting up, as she gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, I understand! That's funny now that I get it."

Ron stared at her, before breaking into a face splitting smile. "So do you know any good jokes, Luna? And not any smart-people, bookworm jokes!"

"Well… I did hear this one…"

* * *

9.

Harry watched his best friend with poorly concealed concern. Ron was staring avidly at Luna. Had, in fact, been starting at her for the past chunk of time, as the girl twirled around the Entrance Hall near the doors. "Um… Ron? You okay man?"

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Trying for tact (Hermoine said it worked better than just blurting things out), he said slowly, "Well, we've been standing here for twenty minutes. I was just wondering if there was any particular reason."

Ron was silent, staring. Luna had stopping spinning and was now weaving around the room, trying to get her equilibrium back.

"Ron?"

"You know, I asked her once, if it bothered her. That people thought he was strange, you know?" He waited until he saw Harry nod. "And you know what she told me?" Ron had this sickeningly sweet smile on his face, the one Luna wore a lot of the time, and Harry was starting to get concerned.

"What?" He asked hesitantly.

"She said, 'A griffin can't change its feathers.' Cute, right?"

"Um, I guess so. Ron are you sure you're al-"

"Oh! And then, and then, she – " He broke off, looking around.

"Ron?"

The redhead didn't answer, just set off at a jog towards Luna. "Off you go… apparently." Harry watched him run off, walking up to Luna and touching her arm lightly to get her attention. She spun towards him, smiling brightly up at him, hands clasped behind her as she rocked on her heels.

Ron was talking to her avidly, gesturing wildly, pointing from Harry to himself, then towards the door. Luna was nodding in excitement, before reaching out to grasp Ron's wrist, tugging on it lightly.

"Wait there for one minute, Harry, I've got to go get something off the ground." And the two of them darted out the door. Harry blinked.

A few minutes later, the two of them came back in. Ron said something to Luna, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She giggled, and stayed standing there while Ron jogged back over to Harry, who was more confused than he'd ever been in his entire life. And that included the time Professor Binns had given them a pop quiz on the History of the 403 AD Goblin Uprising in the South of France.

Ron was holding a handful of flowers. They were pretty flowers, make no mistake. A bright, brilliant gold, with huge petals and ferny little leaves. But they were still flowers.

"This is amaranth," Ron said. "Luna said that it's a really important plant used in healing potions. The plant is common enough, but every now and then you get one flower that comes out like this." He held up the only flower that wasn't golden, but was instead a soft, pale white. "It's not a defect or anything, the plant works in potions the exact same way, with no different side effects or anything. It's just… different." He grinned. "Luna says she's like one of these white ones. The same, overall, but still different enough to be noticed."

Harry was concerned. Harry was concerned about the way Ron was rubbing the petals of the white flower over and over. He would have thought Ron wasn't aware of what he was doing, if it weren't for the way he was staring so intensely at it.

"But I don't think we're like flowers at all."

"Well, that's good – "

"_I_ think we're more like caterpillars."

"… What?"

He looked up at Harry. "Caterpillars, you know? Like, we're all the same, kind of like these flowers. But Luna's a butterfly… off in her own world, so far off that we don't understand her all the time."

Harry was worried. He was worried that Ron had been jinxed or cursed or had some kind of potion slipped into his pumpkin juice. Maybe this was some kind of trick Malfoy was playing on him. Maybe he had Ron under the Imperius curse or something. Or maybe…

"Oh, Merlin."

Ron blinked. "What? What is it?"

Harry laughed and pat his friend on the shoulder. "You've got it bad."

"Huh? What does that mean?"

Harry just shook his head and left him standing there, waving over his shoulder as he walked off.

"Wait! Harry! What does that mean? I've got what bad? Am I dying?!"

* * *

10.

The end of the year cam far too quickly after that. Or maybe not quickly enough, depending on what you were weighing it against. Quidditch made the time go by ridiculously fast, while Hermoine's seemingly never-ending study sessions and reviews and lectures made the days crawl by at a snail's pace.

In any case, exams had ended and in true irony, the weather was dismal and dreary to mirror everyone's feelings of leaving Hogwarts and their friends behind for another summer.

Harry, Ron, and Hermoine had been sitting in the Quidditch stands when the sky had opened up and it had begun to pour quite spectacularly. Halfway through their mad-rush up to the castle, Ron realized he'd dropped his want and turned around to find it, waving the other two off with assurances that he'd be fine by himself.

"Stupid, useless piece of wood," Ron muttered, brushing a wet lock of hair out of his face. "Accio wand!" Not exactly to his surprise, nothing happened, and he was left to trudge through the increasingly muddy ground, water falling endlessly into his eyes. He gave the pitch a cursory sweep before starting to climb the stairs, but stopped suddenly as what he'd seen caught up with his brain.

There was someone out on the pitch.

Their robes were in a crumbled, soaking heap on the grass, and they were spinning in circles, arms outstretched and head tilted back so the rain fell in steady streams onto their face. On second glance, Ron realized he recognized them. That brilliant blonde hair stood out as bright as a candle in a dark room.

Yes, it was Luna. And yes, she was dancing by herself in the rain in the middle of an empty Quidditch pitch. _Why does that not surprise me,_ Ron though almost fondly, turning fully and watching her spin and prance around. What kind of dance she was performing wasn't entirely clear, in fact, Ron was fairly certain it wasn't a specific dance at all. But she had a remarkable gift of performing every step in a way that seemed like a complete accident, and yet flowed smoothly into her routine, if there was any.

She was by no means the worst dancer he had ever seen (and thanks to the Yule Ball, he'd seen enough of them to make a fair comparison), but she had a sort of awkward grace in the way she moved that was endearing. There was a whimsicalness to her that was rarely seen outside of very young children, or perhaps Dumbledore.

Ron snorted at the thought of Luna passing out lemon drops or of Dumbledore reading The Quibbler. Oddly, the two scenarios didn't seem that farfetched. Luna certainly was a mixed bag of nuts, and as the year had gone by Ron found himself caring about it less and less. It certainly didn't bother him as much as it had when he'd first met her during Fifth Year.

"Ron!"

Snapping back to the present at her joyful shout, he lifted a hand in a casual wave, smiling at the sight Luna made. Mud had splattered all over her legs and the hem of her skirt. Her clothes were heavy with water and her hair was straggled and plastered to her face, while her huge eyes were nearly luminous in good spirits. She looked like a very elegant drowned rat.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked, jogging over to the stands.

"I dropped my wand around here somewhere," he answered, walking over to the railing and leaning his forearms against it, staring down at her. "I was just trying to find it."

"Oh! I can help with that!"

"Oh, no it's alright, I probably just dropped the stupid thing up in the stands while we were sitting up there, you don't have to help – "

She laughed, a light tinkling sound that made the words vanish from his mind as she smiled up at him in obvious amusement. "With my wand, silly!"

"Oh," Ron said blankly, comprehension dawning and making him blush in embarrassment. "Yeah, of course, that makes sense."

Luna laughed again, before beginning to turn away. "Now, I'm sure I left it around her somewhere…"

Ron chuckled quietly, as he watched Luna walk back over to where she'd been dancing, peering around intently though the mud and wet grass. The rain was letting up, lessening to a soft drizzle as the storm moved on and the sun began to filter through the clouds once again.

After a moment, his smile softened when Luna dropped to her knees and started to squelch her way around the wet earth. She looked so fey there, clothes and skins dirtied, mud up to her elbows, her shirt grass stained and soaking, her face flushed and smeared with soil, hair tangled and wild, eyes bright as stars. A nymphet, a sylph, a goddess from the old world.

"Aha!"

He was staring at her with growing horror, watching as she summoned his wand (it had fallen down a few sets of bleachers in the wind) and made her way back over to him. When had that happened? When had he gone from thinking of her as Loony Lovegood to one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen? When had her quirks gone from irritating to endearing, her strangeness gone from annoying to adorable?

He watched her with wondering eyes as she got closer, smiling with the carefree abandon he was so enamored with. He sucked in an astonished breath. "Oh no," he murmured with dawning awareness. "Harry was right. I do have it bad… I think," worry colored his tone, "I think I love her."

"Here you are Ron," she said, holding his wand out to him. "Good as new." A pause, as she glanced at the mud she was leaving all over the wood. "Well, almost."

_This was not supposed to happen_, he thought. He was not supposed to fall in love with Luna Lovegood. He was only a teenager, he wasn't supposed to fall in love at all. Date, yes. Someone like Lavender Brown or one of the Patil sisters or even Hermoine. Not Luna. Crazy Luna who asked weird questions that didn't make since and didn't get his jokes. Mad Luna who made awkward comments about Malfoy's father that he didn't want to understand and stood out by the lake in short Muggle uniforms. Lovely Luna who danced in the rain, who had legs like pale stepladders, who smiled at him like he was the only person in the world.

"Ron? Are you alright?"

She was staring up at him, concern shining out from her blue, blue eyes, standing up on her tiptoes to get as close to him as possible. He wondered what she was seeing on his face, before he decided to stop thinking so much about it, leaned over the railing, leaned down as far as he could, and kissed her full on the mouth.

As Ron had his eyes screwed tightly closed, he didn't see Luna's eyes widen in shock, but soon left them drift closed. For a long moment, Ron was afraid he'd overstepped some boundary, some signal she'd sent that he'd misinterpreted telling him she only wanted to be friends. But then she kissed him back so sweetly he'd thought he'd float right off the ground.

When he pulled back from her, he could feel the grin almost splitting his face in two.

Luna's eyes seemed drawn to it, and she reached up one hand, movements slow and graceful, to caress his cheek, to run a finger around the shape of his smile.

"Luna?"

"I like it when you smile," she said, glance shifting upwards so their eyes met. "When you smile, it's like my heart smiles, too."

The grin that had started to fade came back full force. "Yeah," he said softly, leaning down again. "Me, too."


End file.
